


Born Of The Same Flower

by aguamenting



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: 2won, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Flowers, Happy Ending, HyungWonho - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Metaphorical, Smoking, but still flowers, dealer!wonho, don't we all, everything is just mentionned, florist!hyungwon, i miss wonho, not flower shop either, not hanahaki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:41:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23784889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aguamenting/pseuds/aguamenting
Summary: "He looked like a pansy gently picked up by Hyungwon, who sadly watered him, as he wordlessly curled up against the warmth of his arms.""When Hoseok whispered to him, beaming even more, that he was beautiful, before he rubbed his eyes to wake himself up, his heart pumped out more colors than a whole garden."
Relationships: Chae Hyungwon/Lee Hoseok | Wonho
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Born Of The Same Flower

**Author's Note:**

> Hiii again, so, hm, I tried something and Phil @etoilephilante but also @yeosoupluvr on twitter translated me I'm so lucky lsdklskd
> 
> I hope you would enjoy this shy participation to the hyungwonho tags ;;

*

Hoseok’s skin had the texture of satin. Soft, smooth, such a delicacy that it looked fragile as if you could crease it just rubbing it with your fingertips. It was pale and reddened so easily, similar to a spring rosebud shyly blooming. It covered his muscles like a thin blanket, laid directly onto his strong and robust body, so tender that Hyungwon feared to tear it digging in his nails too hard. Red scratches thus adorned Hoseok as much as poppies, anemones, camellias; a coral and vermilion garden planted on his mother-of-pearl back, nourished by the sun inside their eyes, by the breeze of their breaths, by the dampness of their kisses. Protected inside their secret alcove and painted on their white sheets, stains of colors thrown on a canvas to watch them melt.

For a long time, Hoseok had worn forget-me-nots and periwinkles like an incurable disease, displaying every day a new flower made of pain on his wounded skin. Sometimes, his lip was striated with purple, sometimes his eyes stained with ink. He looked like a pansy gently picked up by Hyungwon, who sadly watered him, as he wordlessly curled up against the warmth of his arms. Outside, Hoseok was a weed, born of smoke and concrete, an unwanted parasite who made a spot for himself in between cobblestones. A climbing plant that you would tear off, a bother, an illness. He sold dead flowers, dried by chemicals, intoxicating his peers for money, for his own survival. He had not chosen this life, but some roads were vicious circles, where each crossroads were actually U-turns. Sheltered from the sun, he miserably crawled in a desperate quest for the oxygen that did not want him.

Yet, Hyungwon needed Hoseok to breathe. The odors of coffee shops, of parks, of flowers from the garden center where he worked, did not matter much to him if he could not inhale his lover’s neck, his hair, his clothes. Between soap and old leather, there was a unique fragrance, something like rose and cinnamon, lost in the grass soaked by rain. Hoseok smelled like freedom and comfort, even behind clouds coming from joints and men deodorant. Hyungwon was now used to live in the middle of flowers, but Hoseok was the one that had bloomed within hardships and needed even more care than artificially sustained plants. Hence, he had sheltered him, once, twice, ten times, until he forgot which one of them took refuge against the other one.

They had met in a luminescent night-club with a name unknown to both of them. A mutual friend was celebrating his birthday in the middle of neon lights, like fluorescent fish lost inside the vespertine ocean depths, with the hammering of a repetitive song that buzzed like a bug, and alcohol - disorientating and inebriating - had led them astray in the reassuring darkness. They had drunk from each other's lips out of abundant thirst, and, pushed by unwavering animal instinct, had run to Hyungwon’s place. It was raining, Hyungwon had winced, Hoseok had laughed; their kisses in the club had been too voracious, scorching hot, to stop there. He had held his hand to run into the puddles on the road, cross the pavement and find a shelter, now derisory when it came to keeping themselves dry, but essential when it came to sharing a cigarette. The reddish glow of the burning ash had lit Hoseok’s almond-shaped eyes, revealing his pupils’ shimmery black, that were scrutinizing Hyungwon’s round and child-like face, just a bit taller than him. The latter’s hands, like claws, had clung to him, one on the leather of his jacket, the other on his wool turtleneck, to keep his throat within reach to kiss it.

They probably should not have bloomed together; a magnetic passion too often only romantic due to its ephemerality, even at the risks of cutting your fingers with the thorns of what you picked up. But Hoseok was only a sad pansy, not yet withered, and Hyungwon was a bud that only asked to find its right season. Making two coffees instead of one on mornings Hoseok had fallen asleep against him made a smile grow on his plump lips that was so natural it looked more like a reflex. When Hoseok whispered to him, beaming even more, that he was beautiful before he rubbed his eyes to wake himself up, his heart pumped out more colors than a whole garden. They had murmured their first “ _I love you_ ” with apprehensive pouts, their hands cupping each other’s faces, running their fingers behind each other’s ears, on each other’s jaws, tickling their mouth, brushing their hair. There was restraint holding them back, unlike the city’s liveliness behind their window, drastically contrasting with the heat of their first night. Together, they had gone back to being kids, enthralled and mesmerized over nothings, and in love for real.

Breathtakingly in love, in love to life, to death, entirely in love, for them, sex was only yet another pure way to become one. So in love, anyone would think that soulmates were only two parts of the same being, split up for a fault of no importance anymore. So in love, they could die; but mostly, so in love, they wanted to live. Hyungwon’s moans whenever Hoseok put his head in between his thighs made him realize more than ever how alive he was, made him acutely and brutally conscious of his own body until he shook from a climax that made him forget it entirely. The screams Hoseok was forced to choke down by biting Hyungwon’s collarbone when the latter straddled him with fervor, echoed like a desperate yet mellifluous secular song. They always laid down against each other, never letting go of their hold, even after ferociously making love, and there were tears in their eyes when they dived in each other’s orbs, aware that words would be too weak to describe what they were feeling. It could last long minutes, even hours.

Until Hyungwon would offer to leave their secret garden to move in together, this time officially. Their candor found again now exposed to the light, they had switched their discreet smiles with a loud burst of laughter, playing like children in the middle of the freshly painted walls of a new apartment and cardboard boxes left to open like Christmas gifts. Sometimes, Hoseok still came back with mallow petals on his skin, that Hyungwon gently kissed, a lump in his throat. Outside of their bubble, nothing was as easy as when they were under the impression that nothing else than them existed. But as long as they had a bubble inside of which they could hide, everything would be well. As long as they watched flowers bloom on their skin, in their eyes, in the crystal vases Hyungwon had scattered everywhere in their apartment. As long as they could cry and laugh on each other’s shoulder, confess “ _I love you_ ” into the air without fearing that they would be blown away. As long as they were together, squeezed in each other’s arms, smothered with kisses that without love, would be judged shameless.

“Are you not sleeping?”

“I’m not done thinking about you.”

Hyungwon snickered, his heart painful with happiness.

“Kiss me.”

“Where?” Hoseok smiled, stroking the tip of his nose.

“Anywhere you want.”

*

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on twitter @jonghtoast if u want!!!! don't hesitate to leave kudos or comments if u want, it always illuminate an author's day uwu
> 
> love y'all !!!


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